


Unrequited Love

by Lucien_Carter



Series: pipe dreams (Bangtanmoo) [1]
Category: Mamamoo, 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: Angst, F/M, Unrequited Love, drivers license owning Namjoon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-31
Updated: 2020-01-31
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:46:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22485802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lucien_Carter/pseuds/Lucien_Carter
Summary: It is the 19th of December when he stands for the fifth time at 3 in the morning in front of her door. His hair is a complete mess, his eyes look glassy and he reeks of alcohol. And she still can’t help, but love him all the more.
Relationships: Ahn Hyejin | Hwasa/Kim Namjoon | RM, Ahn Hyejin | Hwasa/Park Jimin (BTS)
Series: pipe dreams (Bangtanmoo) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1597267
Comments: 5
Kudos: 57





	Unrequited Love

**Author's Note:**

> Hey,  
> I tried really hard to make nobody in this story unlikeable and I'm not sure if I succeeded with that.  
> So I just wanted to clarify I love them all and their characters in this story are just a figment of my imagination and not reality.  
> Anyways I hope you like it.  
> Dislcaimer: I think it's a bit of a depressing read and english is not my mother tongue.

It is the 19th of December when he stands for the fifth time at 3 in the morning in front of her door. He is yet again completely drunk and way too loud for the late hour.  
As soon as she opens the door for him he thrusts past her into her apartment, forgets to take off his shoes and spreads snow slush in her whole living room.  
Her body is tired from the long day and it is a challenge to keep her eyes open, but she doesn’t say anything when he starts to raid her fridge for a beer and demands from her to make him some ramen. Instead like every other time she fills a pot with water, puts it on the stove and stays silent. 

His hair is a complete mess, his eyes look glassy and he reeks of alcohol. It doesn’t matter to her or her heart.  
She still can’t help, but love him all the more.  
She knows it is never his intention to cause her pain, but that doesn’t change how she feels. 

It hurts, hurts so very much to see him like this. 

He takes a sip from his beer and fails miserably in suppressing a loud burp.  
She notices with a little smile how his ears turn red.

“Sorry” She can hear the embarrassment in his voice.

She just shrugs with her shoulders. They drank together way too often; he saw far worse from her.

“You’re wasted again.” 

He laughs. It doesn’t sound happy. His eyes are empty.

“And you’re beautiful. Why are we stating the obvious?”

It is said with indifference. Still, he makes her heart flutter. Even though she knows just all too well that he doesn’t mean it like that. 

He always is a flirt and every sip of alcohol amplifies this trade of his personality even more. 

“Did you drink all alone again?” 

The water starts to boil and she throws the ramen into the hot liquid.

“Yeah. Pathetic I know.” He laughs again.

“We are all pathetic, when we’re in love.” She responds quietly.

He looks at her, - really looks at her. There is no fake smile on his lips anymore.

“True.” 

Again he takes a sip from his beer and lets silence spread between them. 

There is this little spark of hope inside of her, no matter how hard she tries to extinguish it, it seems impossible to kill. 

Doesn’t it have to mean something that he always comes to her when he’s drunk? Do people not always say that only children and drunkards tell the truth?  
Maybe, just maybe there’s more to it? Wouldn’t it be possible? 

“Do you want to talk about it?” she asks carefully. 

If he opens up to her right now, she thinks to herself, maybe not all hope is lost.  
But her innermost wishes shatter for the thousandth time, when he finally answers.

Why is she unable to smother this feeble flame of useless hope, even though it only brings her misery over and over again? 

“No. It wouldn’t change anything. Talking doesn’t change shit. She still wouldn’t love me and I would still feel horrible about it.” 

He grins joylessly.

“I’m here to forget. Hyejin-ah, can you help me to forget again?”

She hates how her body reacts to his plead. How, against all her better judgement she honestly considers fulfilling his request for a second. Even though her memories are still so very fresh. 

She remembers all too good how dirty she felt, how disgusted she was with herself the last time he came.  
How she sat under the running shower hours after he had left, until her fingers were pruney and the water had turned cold. 

“Don’t do this to me, please.” Her voice sounds breathless and pathetically thin. 

She despises how pitiful she is. She hates how she forgets her own worth, when he’s around.  
And she knows – it isn’t his fault, because she never told him - confessed to him how he makes her heartbeat speed up when he smiles and how it gets harder to breath when he’s looking at her like that - and he is hurting too. 

So she really doesn’t make him responsible for how much of a damaged good she already is at this point.

When her words, and with them realization hits him, he smiles sadly at her. She feels a bang in her chest, but she doesn’t falter.

“I’m sorry. I just – I just can’t” she tries to explain, but he interrupts her midsentence.

“Don’t – you don’t have to feel bad. I’m the one keeping you from sleeping. You’re already doing more than enough for me. Thanks, Hyejin-ah. Truly – thank you.” He smiles again, but it cannot hide the disappointment in his voice.

She feels heat in her cheeks and regret seething in her stomach. But she knows in the end it’s better this way.

“Your ramen are ready to eat. I’ll text Namjoon, maybe he’s still awake, maybe he can get you again.”

Jimin snorts drunkenly. “I would be very much surprised if he’s not. The man doesn’t sleep I tell you.”

And Jimin is right. Only have an hour later he’s there. There are snowflakes in his hair, his cheeks are red from the cold December night and he frowns. 

She feels embarrassed when she looks at him. She wonders what he thinks of her and does not want to know at the same time.  
It always has been Namjoon - since the first time Jimin came to her - Namjoon who collects his drunken friend early in the morning from her apartment. 

She still can remember his expression from the first time she had opened the door for him. It was a mixture of shock, anger and something else. His gaze had flickered to her sleek black dressing gown, before fixating on her face, her reddened cheeks and her swollen lips.  
His jaw had clenched, when he had noticed the love bite on her neck.  
But he had stayed silent, just nodded, when she told him with raspy voice, that Jimin was still in the shower and had waited silently on her kitchen counter until a still completely intoxicated Jimin came fully dressed out of her bathroom.

This time he doesn’t look shocked anymore, just annoyed – and there’s again this other emotion, the one she just fails to identify.  
She feels how his scrutinizing eyes roam over her form, how he quietly notices, that this time she is still very much dressed. 

“I’m really sorry for calling you that late, yet again” she whispers “he passed out on my couch.”

He sighs and rubs over the bridge of his nose. 

“No problem, let me get him.”

Contrary to his words she can clearly feel that it is indeed a problem for him. Again, his anger is tangible.

He follows her into her living room. She notices how he briefly scans her apartment, how his eyes find the wet spots all over her floor and how his jaw tenses up even more.

“Just give me a minute. I will carry him to my car and then I will help you clean up the mess he made.” 

“You really don’t have to…”

“Yes I do.” He sounds like he already made up his mind and frankly she feels too tired to argue with him anyway.

She observes how he picks up the sleeping man with ease. Although he is obviously in a bad mood he is still very gentle and Jimin doesn’t awake from his drunken slumber as Namjoon carries him out of her apartment. 

It doesn’t take him long until he’s back again. She is kneeling on the floor and rubbing the dirt from the linoleum when he opens the door.  
For a short moment he just stands there in the door frame and looks at her. His anger is still palpable.

“Everything went fine?” she asks hesitantly

“Yes. He’s still very much asleep.”

He takes off his shoes and hangs his winter jacket on the coat rack. He’s very tall, she always knew, but never really noticed it until now. 

“You really don’t have to feel obligated to help me.” She says again, trying to break the charged silence between them.

A clear mistake, because it seems to create a deep crack in the wall, which held his anger back until now and she can only helplessly watch as it collapses completely in front of her eyes.

She never saw him like this before. There is fire blazing in his eyes, every single muscle in his body seems to be strained to the bursting point and when he finally speaks, his words feel like venom, etching through her skin and bones.

“Why the hell do you let him treat you like that?” he spits out.  
It sounds like an accusation and she doesn’t understand, is too exhausted to comprehend how this situation could go so horribly wrong. Why is he so angry with her?

Her voice is soft, almost breaks. “Like what?”

“Like shit!”  
His words feel like a whiplash and she cannot help but wince when they hit her.

With eyes wide open she just stares at him. His pupils are dilated and with the shining kitchen lamp in his back he reminds her of an avenging angel, his hair glisters in the light.  
It looks like he wears a crown of fire on his head.  
And she still doesn’t understand his fury, why he breathes so heavily why his hands are clenched into fists, why his brows are furrowed and why he gazes so intensely at her.  
His stare is so piercing; she has to avert her gaze. 

She can hear how he breaths in and out deeply, tries to calm himself down before he speaks again.

“I am sorry, very sorry, I didn’t want to scare you.” 

Surprised by his words she looks up at him.

“You didn’t scare me.”

Gentleness has replaced the storm of rage in his eyes and somehow that makes it even harder to hold his gaze.  
Sometimes tenderness is so much more frightening than fury, especially for the ones who are starving for it.

When he cautiously steps forward, while absorbing every little emotion that crosses her face, she automatically steps back.  
She does not understand why her heart is racing in her chest, why breathing is suddenly so difficult.  
With every inch he comes closer to her, she takes another step back, until there is no space left to retreat to, just the cold wall. 

She feels hot, like she has a fever and it gets worse when he bridges the remaining distance between them.  
There is so much tension, she cannot sort her thoughts anymore, especially not when he looks at her like that – like she somehow has value. 

When he starts to talk again she can literally feel his soft words on her bare skin.

“Open your eyes. Why don’t you see?”

And she tries to decipher what he could mean, searches in his face for an answer and forgets to breath completely, when she finally understands what emotion he wears when he looks at her. 

She can’t do anything but stare at him, with eyes wide open, like a deer in the headlights, when he slowly raises his hand only to tuck a strand of hair gently behind her ear.  
She sees how his gaze flickers to her lips and for a short moment she believes or maybe even wishes that he will kiss her.  
She sees the desire in his eyes, but instead he just smiles again and strokes gently with his thumb over her bottom lip. 

“You cannot imagine how much I would give, for you to look at me like you look at him.”

She sees the pain in his eyes and she really wants to say something, but her brain has stopped working.  
And so she just continues to looks at him, while he continues to smile at her without meaning it.  
She does not know how much time passes – a second, an hour? – when he steps back with a deep sigh and takes all his body warmth with him. 

“Just text me, when Jimin needs a chauffeur again.” – and with that he’s out of her apartment.


End file.
